PiJSflGHT'S REVERIES 



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Katherine Munro 





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COFIRICHT DEPOSm 



NIGHTS' REVERIES 



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IN THE DREAMER'S 
LAND 



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KATHERINE MUNRO 




THE CHRISTOPHER PRESS 
BOSTON, MASS. 






Copyright 1913 
By KATHERINE MUNRO 



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^C!A357731 



To 

My Two Friends 

E. A. W. (M. D. D. D.) 
G. C. (M. A.) 

Both of the University 

of 

Oxford. 

Strong Faith! in Reunion 
Hereafter. 



7 do not question what remaining y^ears portend 
I f^noTVf I shall he given courage to the end.'' 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Introductory 9 

"Esperance,*' La Bonne Mere Regina . . . . II 

Year 1884. The Ring and Robe 12 

Year 1885. The Ship and Rock 16 

Year 1886. The Ladders 19 

Recognition to Resignation (poem) 23 

Recognition 24 

1900. The Youthful Guide 27 

The Roses 36 

The Garden (poem) 39 

The Woman's Prayer or The Angel of Pain . . 40 

The Dog and Bird 43 

The Star 47 



INTRODUCTORY. 

I dedicate this little book to two I owe the biggest debts 
of gratitude, one human being owes others. The first one 
trained my mental vision on, to see, only, the beautiful in 
all things. 

It was this Friend who taught me the quickest way to 
divine all shams; and gave me purest ideas of men and 
women of Royal Blood, crowned by their silent charity, 
unselfish Loves, and lacking all snobbery. 

The other — it was who also shewed me in a kindly 
patient way — "to shrink from honest labour when circum- 
stances demanded such should be taken up and done for 
independent life, or to ease another's heavy burden — was 
not Pride but Cowardice. 

But, to take in hand the daily task, placed to your hands, 
be it never so mean in appearance or uncongenial, and to do 
that Tvell! was the surest sign of nobility of mind. 

I have failed in many things, that both hoped and prayed 
for me to be successful in and here lies remorse. Still, my 
greatest wish and ardent hope is near — I think. 

If this little messenger will some day find the door of 
one still living here on earth and lie beside his hands — and 
to know that He will understand, what to so very many will 
appear most crude, ungrammatical and very incoherent 
language — makes me glad. 



10 nights' reveries 

For through its halting, most parts quite mysterious sen- 
tences, he'll see all his and the others efforts (and fore- 
knowledge of a dormant gift) to aid, make plain (and guide 
me) have not been in vain, nor proved that they were wrong. 

Go, little Traveller! my heart aches and trembles for 
you. But, no boat, however grandly built, is counted safe 
until it has breasted the angry waves that must rise and rush 
at it to test its strength and worth. 



nights' reveries 1 1 



"ESPERANCE" LA BONNE MERE REGINA. 

County Delight, S. A., April, 1912. 
My Dear Sylvia: — 

At last I am trying to carry out your wishes, that I 
should publish a few of my word-painted scenes after visit- 
ing, as you call it, "Nods land" for years. 

I put off doing so, in spite of your Jessie and George's 
kind assurances that they are true and beautiful, simply 
through a cowardly shrinking from the Reviewer's sneers. 

Anyhow, here goes the httle Boat, laden with "Living 
Hopes." May a few welcome some of its contents and find 
them Good Food. 

Yours faithfully, 

"Maisie" Munro. 

N. B. You will at once recognize the first one as being 
the result of that queer death-like sleep. "Gungea" found 
me in and roused you to "come and see to Mem," fearing I 
had really "passed over" and the story of Joe and Sarah 
(just before the news of his death came) you know (?) 
This being the first of my many dialogues and realistic 
visions — not children of Fancy but to me very vivid experi- 
ences during deep slumber. Day and night. 

"See to Mem." short for "Memsahib" (natives lingo) in 
North of S. A., South America, where my dreams first 
grew. 



12 nights' reveries 



Year 1884. 
"THE RING AND ROBE." 

I was told to go into a large, old garden, to see if it 
could be made beautiful again, for me to live in and I was 
to have a special gift given to me there. I did so and found 
that though it was grown wild through deadly weeds choking 
the erstwhile lovely fruit trees, creeping vines and rose trees, 
almost dead, I saw that there was every chance of its being 
made a good "building ground." Suddenly there appeared 
an old house in a far corner and lovely untold-of spot, in 
this large, wild weed-grown, old, garden-ground. 

Strange! I had not been told of that. Well! never 
mind I will go to it and see if anything can be done to make 
that fit for living in. 

As I thought this I trudged through the long grass, grown 
almost up to its door. 7 hen I shivered, stood still and 
became afraid. It was not cold — the day was young and 
warm — it was not dark nor was there anything creeping 
round. Why! was I afraid, must not I go any further? 
But, I want to, — to understand why in this Garden its 
queer old house had been left here — and not inhabited 
and, why, the house had such peculiar steps of sodden 
trodden, earth with masses of pure yellow ore in hardened, 



nights' reveries 13 

glittering cakes — dumped down. Few feet could go over 
that without some pain. 

As I stood trying to will my way against this to me un- 
reasonable fear, I felt I was being drawn closer to the 
opened door by invisible hands. I felt their pressure, but 
could not see them — but, I looked in and saw the building 
contained one room three parts circular, the other a square 
wall and that, was immediately before me — as I gazed in. 

These walls were wonderfully planned and built; the 
colouring of the three was most peculiar, in tints or, some 
stains would be the most appropriate term, for these running 
views, serpentine or undulatory spots and stripes raised from 
a dark background, mingled with blood-red splashes, as 
from unseen wounds. 

It made me shudder to look at them, yet I was so fasci- 
nated that I could not withdraw my gaze from the life-like 
trembling wavy movements of these uncanny walls — with its 
dense uncomfortable atmosphere. Was it intense heat 
hidden behind them, such as is felt and seen on wide fields 
during burning summer days in our true tropic lands ; or was 
it a furnace built in there from which flames threw out their 
glazing heat? As my wondering thoughts increased I was 
quietly, though very firmly, propelled up, into the room and 
I felt the fearful heat. Ah there ! facing me, my back was 
still to the door. I realized at once there was an enormous 
hidden stove — that square, black iron wall — that faced me. 

It was from that, that the heat waves came on to the 
outer walls. I had no sooner thought this out than I heard 
a swishing noise and many dark, thin-robed figures came into 
view bearing rough-hewn benches which they placed in rows 
before this square iron wall — and silently disappeared. As 
these phantom-like people disappeared others came in but 
were not as ghostly-looking as the others, for these were 
weeping quietly, as they filed in and took their seats. 

One seat, immediately before the unseen stove, was left 
vacant as if prepared for a special one: as I noticed this I 
heard a movement at the door and turned round, to see a 



14 nights' reveries 

stout, bent figure, dressed In crepe-like clothing, come in and 
stand waiting. 

Why, it is Sarah Mac! my Friend. I went up to her, 
but could not speak; as I did this a tall figure standing 
near the vacant seat signed that I should go over to the door 
and allow the newcomer to come up and take the seat. I 
stood hesitating as to what was the right thing to do? for 
the force-hold hands had now left me and I noticed my 
dress was quite out of keeping with theirs — I should go. 

All this while Sarah stood waiting, so I quickly decided 
she should remain at the door on a form — and I would take 
the seat before the stove. She had always dreaded heat 
far more than I and now she looked so unlike bright Sarah, 
terribly haggard and gray. 

I got to the seat and stooped to sit. Suddenly a trap door 
opened at my feet and I slid through into another room. 
The room in which I now stood was very large and dazzling- 
ly white, but made of a simple wood, perfectly empty, not 
one window or door nor any seat in there. I put up my 
hand to shade my eyes from the glare of the white wood, 
which made them ache. Ah! a cool breeze poured down 
upon my head increasing until its strength and roughness 
made me remove my hands and look up. 

Half-way down from the top of a long staircase (which 
ended at my feet) stood Joe Mac, Sarah's husband. I was 
so glad to see him come to me in my great dilemma, but I 
did not speak. He too seemed very happy to know that 
/ k^eTV him at once, though he looked many years younger 
than his age. 

As I placed a foot upon the first step to go up to him, he 
put up his hand, then spoke, "Not yet, dear May, only 
wait and see what is to be yours after your work out there 
is done.'' I knew instinctively he meant my building in the 
old, old garden ground. 

He raised his arms above his head and drew down a 
fleecy robe and between his thumb and finger I saw a brill- 
iant star which stood off from a wide, golden band. 



nights' reveries 15 

"These are for you" he said, **but not nearly yet." "Look 
at your hands." I did, and saw that in each palm I had 
a crystal ball with wells filled up with Mercury. How had 
they come there unknown to me? He read my thoughts 
and answered, "They came from you and to you into your 
hands. Life of })Our life and not that alone the lives of 
others a sacred boon. Courage and Trustful Faith give 
these to thee. Work well with Love to life." 



16 nights' reveries 



Year 1885. 
•THE SHIP AND ROCK." 

It was Easter-tide when we embarked at mid-day on 
board the steamer 'Hope' which was a trader going West, 
so we took our berths. 

I did not know why — but I felt uneasy all the time as 
she ploughed her way through the waves for several days; 
yet all seemed so serene. 

The man, my close companion, filled me with foolish 
fears. He was not by any means unkind, but we did not 
know each other, though everyone on board believed we 
thoroughly understood our lives. He was always near me 
and was bright and intellectual. At times I dropped this 
nameless fear as I listened to him, and he would often dive 
and bring up gems — for my appreciation — from the rich 
stores of Great Men's minds. 

One special day, near our journey's end, a day or so 
from shore, we sat apart, quite unintentionally alone on 
deck. The Captain of 'The Hope' came up and stood 
before us and addressed him, my companion in an abrupt 
and awkward way, "Can you swim, Mr. A?" he asked. 
"Yes, of course!" the other answered quickly, "Why do you 
ask, is anything wrong?" "Yes, I fear panic," the Cap- 



nights' reveries 17 

tain replied, "we are on the rocks," — he added "hemmed in 
all round, these are the very worst kind of the 'submerged' 
ones which cannot be seen, nor can one have the faintest notion 
of them until you land upon them. I am glad to find that 
some can swim," the tones verged to sarcasm as he con- 
tinued, "there are not enough *Life boats,' on board this ship, 
to carry all souls to that shore." He looked pityingly at 
me as he moved on. 

The wind had risen, and dark clouds scudded round ; the 
steamship seemed most uneasy in her laboured movements. 
The Captain had hardly disappeared when a voice close to 
my ear said, "I will save you." 

I looked round, but my companion was not there. Who 
could it be? There were many others now on deck but 
none but he could do this for me ! Ah ! here he comes. 

"Did you speak to me before you left," I asked him as 
he came up and stood beside my chair. "Yes," he an- 
swered, but in such changed tones, my heart grew cold in 
despair: as I looked up he added "Have no fear I shall 
swim." Was not it my strained mental condition that 
imagined this? Surely, surely, not cowardly fear had given 
this haggard pallidness and cringing air. No, I will not 
believe it of him, it is my cowardly fear. 

The ship gave a sudden lurch, a leaping bound (that 
drove all else from my mind) a horrid long shiver of vibra- 
tion came next, then a harsh cracking sound as she leapt 
agam and then heaved over, and settled down to a dread 
stillness. 

"She fills and sinks" my companion said and grasped 
my arm, drawing me to the leaning side as the ship rolled 
over, — and from which we plunged into the madly rushing 
surf, between those deeply hidden rocks, now faintly seen. 
We could see a boat struggling to gain our side; but, it was 
driven hither and thither by increasing winds and high waves. 
A great storm gathered overhead. 

My heart sank, I saw my fears, that had gathered on 
board ship, were not without true foreshadowing and this 



18 nights' reveries 

man of boasted strength and skill could neither swim to save 
himself nor attempt to keep my head above the waves. His 
weakness was pulling both under to sure death. In mad- 
dened terror I called out, "Help! oh, help! is there not one- 
Soul-near to hear?" A rapid flash of lightning shewed me 
a rock, which rose as a needle from the surface of the 
waters immediately at my head — from its pinnacle hung 
down two arms and the hands were strong and wide. 

"Place your hands in mine" said a calm, strong voice; as 
I did so, I was overwhelmed with emotion — (this, I knew, 
was the voice that had spoken to me on board), as he drew 
me up from the waters that had grown strangely calm. I 
gained courage to look up and said, "He, my companion, 
save him too." "Yes," came the prompt reply, but you 
first," and He drew me up. 



nights' reveries 19 



1886. 

"Love much, your Faith will be dethroned and shaken, 
Your trust betrayed by many a fair, false lure. 

Remount your Faith, and let her trusts awaken; 
Though clouds obscure them yet the Stars are pure! 

Love is a vital price — and must endure.'* 

THE LADDERS. 

A beautiful house I owned was razed to the ground by 
a tempestuous gale. 

I stood within the railings on a small platform and looked 
before the many shattered treasures lying about. None of 
these things seemed to stir the least emotion in me. 

I waited to see how long the hurricane would last — 
perhaps I, too, would be broken and swept away ere it 
ceased, for my refuge was by no means too secure a foot- 
hold. 

A stranger hurried up to the scene of chaos and stood 
battling with the whistling winds. They came from all 
quarters it appeared. 

Buttoning his coat tightly, he bent down and gathered 
up fragments of a rich gilt frame, which, until then had 



20 NIGHTS* REVERIES 

escaped my eyes. A groan rushed from me. He turned, 
and seeing me out there alone, quickly surmised that they 
were mine. Coming up to the platform he handed the bits 
to me. They were the multilated parts of an 'Old Master's' 
painting — the picture of my Dearest Friend. I shuddered 
and took them. 

He bent his head in silence. I could not see his face as 
he moved on. I knew nothing more for some time. 

The hour was dark, though long past midnight when I 
awoke and I could not move, with recollection gathered fast. 

Burying my face in my hands I lay upon bare earth, face 
down filled with a wild despair. 

Come what may now, I don't care. There is no Cod. 
All hope had gone. I was almost sufFocated, but by what? 
I could not tell until I tried to rise. Then I found I had 
drawn down upon myself a net that hung upon a gate near 
by. So tightly did it pin me down by its great weight I 
could not lift one hand. 

Ah! across I saw a hand. At once, I felt instinctive 
hope for Life! This hand will surely take the net away. 
But I was wrong, a finger of the hand pointed to a rent. 
I dragged myself up to that and heavily crawled through. 
And so went on the whole while in utter silence as the finger 
pointed. 

Was it a hundred times? far more, almost a life-time! 
did it seem to me at last! I pulled myself through the 
very last rent, and gathering up what little strength of Will 
I owned, I rose upon my feet and breathed air freely again. 
Nothing else to be seen but barren land — not one living 
creature but myself; even the net had gone with the hand 
that had guided me out. No, again I was wrong! A 
ladder stood up before me, made of rough-hewn branches, 
such as one sees in country places, used for birds to roost on. 
Thinking aloud I said, "What is the use of this, I cannot 
mount it!" Suddenly the hand appeared again, the finger 
of the net deliverer pointed again that I must do so. *'No, 
no, it cannot be done." "Oh! yes," for the finger steadily 



nights' reveries 21 

pointed (as it brought me through that other dilemma) I 
must trust again the "Finger Guide" seemed to say. 

I put one foot upon the first rough rung and trembled, 
the ladder shook, but strange ! the vibration seemed to steady 
me, though I was still afraid, and apparently it did not mat- 
ter one iota to the "Guide" for the finger simply pointed 
steadily up! Doubting, trembling, I put on the other foot, 
and suddenly gathered full strength to hold hard, on what? 
Help that was in mid-air for of that I am perfectly sure. 
My hands were firmly grasped as I climbed up on the 
rough-limbed lottery ladder. 

At the upper end of this tree-limbed structure another, 
but much better one appeared. That was of smooth, plain 
white wood, with sides to hold upon and this was a much, 
much longer ladder, the end was not visible to the naked 
eye. As I stepped fearlessly upon it I was left alone to 
mount and a feeHng of exhilarating power seemed to be 
placed within my hands: for I sang as I climbed, part of 
an old hymn we had used in my home at morning prayers 
when quite a child: 

"Through sleep and darkness safely brought 
Restored to hfe! by power of thought.'* 
This was all I could recall of some of the lines. 

I suppose it was this that carried memory back, for, as I 
looked at the side while still going on, I saw a sign that 
made me stop awhile by every clime I had visited, or lived 
in. I saw faces of Friends made there and some of the 
relatives 'gone on' seemed happily waving me up! The 
face of that Dearest One, whose picture was smashed 
through great storms, showed out! Alone! with upturned 
face, gazing to where my end should be. 

There were a few who seemed not quite as the others 
were, there was a restlessness in their gestures. But this 
did not affect me, they were a few who had been as 'ships 
that pass at night' unseen, hardly known of by me. Strange ! 
as I recommenced my climbing I felt no regret that I was 
not with those standing out there. 



22 nights' reveries 

For I knew that they wished me to mount to the end and 
/ saw that they wished me well. After a time, and a time 
at rest I san> the end of mp ladder Ti>as resting against a 
House! It was as one being built. Could this be for me? 
'Yes,' seemed sent down; for immediately some one appeared 
who seemed to be the Master Builder and stood at the top 
of my last step, waiting till I should arrive. 

As I reached the very last rung, he said 'come over' this 
is your resting place. Your 'Home' is much farther on. 
There is yet another, but very small ladder for you to climb 
upon. I went in and saw that one. As a House Ladder 
I climbed and sat upon it as I was told to do. 

The Builder then handed me a letter, the border was 
black and deep. 

'Open and see,' he said. I did, and found it contained 
a single card on which was painted the Head of a Dog; 
below the line one word, its name 'Faithful.' This Tvas 
n^ritten in red. 'Your Guide to the End' he said and I 
awoke. 



nights' reveries 23 



RECOGNITION TO RESIGNATION. 

"Straight through my heart this fact today 
By Truth's own hand is driven; 
God never takes one gift away, 
But something else is given. 

No matter if the crushing blow 
May for the moment down me 

Still, back of it, waits Love, I know. 
With some new gift to crown me. 

I did not know in earlier years. 
This law of love and kindness; 

I only mourned through bitter tears 
My loss, in sorrow's blindness." 



24 nights' reveries 



RECOGNITION. 

Grace was in London at the time it happened and then 
returned to her home 'The Willows' in the South. It was 
November, the foggy month, when hearts cry out for sun- 
shine that 'Joy' was taken. Life then became a bitter, 
clinging weed, Beauty! Love! Hope! Faith! fled quickly 
weeping from her house at sight of this. 

'Love' was the first one to come back, then 'Faith' and 
last came sweet-tuned little 'Hope!' She lingered at the 
gate which had grown very rusty, until 'Love' shook it 
rasping open. 

'Faith' climbed upon the railings and beckoned 'Love' 
that they, too, had returned. But it was a long time past 
the month that 'Joy' had gone from her sad mother's heart. 

This was a day of June's rich making. A sunny, soft- 
breathed, airy day and 'Time' began a tender coaxing love- 
song, while Grace sat dreaming, face in hands under a 
spreading willow tree. She heard his notes, but very faintly, 
though they were strong and true. As he drew nearer with 
his flute and stood behind her, she looked up and murmured, 
"What is that, surely, it is not melody?" and then she said, 
"Yes, so it is, but where? it cannot be here within m^ 
ground?'' "Yet strange," she added, "to-day it seems to 
me as if my lovely babe 'Sweet Joy' is here. The lily, rose 
and myrtle are all in bloom just as those glorious eyes of 



nights' reveries 25 

blue so quickly spied them and the tiny hands outstretched 
to try and catch them, and she'd coyly coo and quickly hide 
her face upon my shoulder as if to woo the blossoms to a 
romp at *hide and seek.' 

How this gentle, sighing self-same breeze reminds me 
of all her sweet wee ways. In fancy I can see her rippling, 
golden curls wave in the air. "See, see!" she in startled 

tones then exclaimed, "what is that over there a a 

strange new rose tree ! Whose hands have placed so beauti- 
ful a thing within my ground unknown to me!" 

So Grace rose up and dragged her weary limbs, pressing 
her painful brows as she brushed her heavy eyelids too — all 
grown stiff, aching, and dim — through lack of action, rest 
from brooding, and want of soothing sleep. 

Slowly she got beside the tree on which there waved one 
beauteous snow-white 'Flowerette,' a 'Pearl of Roses,' just 
newly opened. 

Trembling, she gazed upon it. She had fasted long and 
all but fainted as she stooped to have a closer look at this 
blossom in the garden, which some unknown loving soul had 
placed in view — this, which had moved her strangely from 
the long deep-seated gloom beneath the willow branches. 

Again the notes of 'Time's' soft flute stole sweetly to her 
ears, closer and closer, steadily on and on he came to her — 
she heard them now distinctly for she had left the willows 
sorrowing, low-sighing branches. 

Both rose and notes of 'Time' brought forth emotion. 
Warm tears gathered and quickly filHng her eyes, ran over 
and fell upon the petals of that rose that she knew some- 
one's loving thoughts had placed in this corner of her neg- 
lected ground where all Tvillows had congregated to hide 
siveet sights and sounds. Again she starts, this time she 
stands erect. A radiant sunny stream of light pours down 
upon her head and warms her limbs (grown oh! so cold 
and stiff through lack of happy, moving deeds) and on the 
branches of the rose tree, near the flowerette on which 
Grace's tears had fallen, glistened dew-drops, 'sprays' from 



26 nights' reveries 

the sudden filling of the tiny petal cups, adding a greater 
lustre to the already dazzling whiteness of the flower and a 
clearer freshness to the leaves. As Grace looked this way 
'Time's' coaxing overwhelmed her, but she brushed away 
more rising tears to see more clearly the quick unfoldment 
of so many buds that at first she had not noticed near the 
one quite opened that her eyes had rested on so long, think- 
ing this the onl^ blossom to be seen. While she watched 
these other perfect blossoms she thought the buds were wav- 
ing up and down, as if silently urging her, Grace, to look 
up and around. She looked at them at first in listlessness 
until bending her head she sarv her Form. This completely 
roused her and she shuddered 'for the mass of rank clinging 
weeds so full of slimy earth' had wound closely round her 
binding her limbs. 

"What shall I do" in awestruck tone she cried, tugging 
at these the while her efforts being frustrated. In despair 
she threw up her hands in prayer for strength. This she 
quickly got. 

Grace's weak hands grew firm in grasp — every tendril 
is loosened from its hold — the weeds give way and she is 
free. 

At first she was a Httle weak and faint after her struggling 
efforts ; but not for long. 

A sweet, low, cooing call or rather a sound of low sweet 
laughter greets her ears. Her eyes grow soft, then full of 
lustrous light and norv she listens and Tvatches intently. 

The laughter and cooing calls draw near, nearer, and the 
words she hears, to her heart, are sweet. Mother dear! 
Mother heart mine! look out, close at your hands, beside 
you, see 'Joy' is here so near to you. Grace's sad heart 
bounds now in gladness as she turns and sees the image of 
her darling 'Joy' who waves its tiny hands and lifts high the 
brightest face — grasps the railings waiting for recognition! 
and for Grace to clasp it in her arms. This sweet, wee 
soul-as-'Joy' she mourned as lost to sight (and for ever), 
those long weary, wintery months gone by. 



nights' reveries 27 



1900. 
THE YOUTHFUL GUIDE. 

I became restless and uncomfortable in the house I lived 
in after my marriage. 

But I would not leave it until my children were old 
enough to chose another for themselves. 

Custom and sentiment tied me to it. All my little ones 
had heard the first prayer under the wide open windows 
facing East and their tiny upturned faces had received the 
crosses of crystalline rain-drops from a hand now no longer 
there — a hand that I reverenced — a voice I loved to hear as 
he used the Master's words. 

"Suffer httle children and forbid them not to come unto 
me." He was a steward in thought, word and deed in his 
Master's behalf. 

Friends noticed my unsettled state of mind and urged my 
trying one of their dwelling places for a time at least. So 
on several visits away from home I joined them in theirs. 
The complacent faces round me made me long to gain some- 
thing of this seeming *mind at perfect ease' state that was 
theirs. 

The increasing chilliness of our atmosphere went to the 



28 nights' reveries 

bone so I could not any longer allow sentiment or custom to 
rule me to death, in so cold a "House of Prayer." An 
earthquake took place over my head, about mid-day, one 
day, that shook my faith; shortly after this there appeared 
a foggier aspect than ever all round me, so with flickering 
light in hand I went out seeking some other home. I heard 
of a road to one with many vacancies but it did not forcibly 
appeal to me, that district. 

Going up a side street I knew well, where several of 
different orders stood, there was one that had always fasci- 
nated me (it seemed so warm and invitingly stood open day 
and night to strangers), this kept me for a time spell-bound, 
its warmth and charity appealed to my chilled heart. The 
building was magnificently planned and built. Architect 
and Master Mason had outvied each other in putting forth 
and placing their best efforts in plans and structure. 

The windows kept strangers silent in admiration of the 
artist's wonderful work. I alone, of those who stood there 
at that time, could not suppress my seemingly insensate 
giggles, that made those close by mutter and frown at me. 
The window facing me represented so many images of divine 
people that I loved but which to my mind's eyes seemed such 
inappropriate examples for us to follow, as they stood, 
practical symbolic example I needed then. Peter, the 
'rugged rock, sure Comforter for all failures,' the being I 
had heard described so often as a child by a 'Preacher- 
leader' who especially loved this Fisherman, Shepherd's 
guide, was garbed in flowing gaudy robes, his face, a 
weakling's, wore a self-satisfied smirk. Beneath was an 
inscription "Rock of our Hope." 

It had not struck me so forcibly before. This night I was 
critical for I was eager for a sure happy home. No! this 
would not do, for my Peter could never have had that kind 
of face nor cared for those gaudy robes entangling his eager 
feet and ever restless arms. How often my heart had 
leaped in hang-head shame with him as I heard the old 
words, "I know him not" and again that organ had trembled 



NIGHTS* REVERIES 29 

with sympathies, vibratory reaction as this followed clearly, 
slowly. "He-went-out-and-wept-bitterly" .... 
the intense stillness (that had followed ere our Preacher 
went on) made me see Peter with that heartache so plainly 
that I longed to go to him, touch his hand, and gripping it, 
show him what I felt for the time was clouded by over- 
whelming woe. That that 'Other Divine Lover' loved him 
all the same: though his heart ached too at the failure. It 
was this 'long ago descriptive talker's' view of Peter's whole 
appearance which rushed back to my mind's eye making 
this other picture touch my absurd sensory nerves; at this, 
to me, caricature of 'so dead-earnest' a nature free of all 
self-centered show. He of so forceful a nature, oh no! 

I turned away. No! it would not do, I could not go 
in there. Peter, my rock, my pillar to which to hold when 
doubt's rough waves rose up to draw me away from sure 
foot hold. Faith would never have the same influence did 
I sit and watch him as an effigy or on a window which faced 
East, blotting out God's glorious sunshine and not allowing 
a whisper to enter of a fresh, strong breeze such as the 
Fisherman Apostle must have loved to take in deep draughts 
for expanding his lungs for the keen action his eager mind 
and frame demanded on earth, and / am sure, elsewhere too. 
As I walked slowly back I suddenly stopped at a low fence 
and remained some time retrospecting. I was suddenly 
thrown back on myself. 

I lived over again my life in a far tropic land. I was 
about sixteen. One picture, in particular, rose to my mind's 
eyes. 

It was of a large almost ugly white and brown painted 
house, not one artistic wonderful window there, no special 
seats allotted to the mighty ones of that land, though several 
such constantly came there. Everyone gathered under that 
roof had the same and there was not one amongst them who 
would not at once rise and offer the best, that by chance he 
had, to an outsider standing on the threshold awaiting a wel- 
come there. 



30 nights' reveries 

This plain old building was erected on this site in 
memory of a martyr's fiery exit and the house bore his 
simple name. 'Smith House' had two square porches, 
both facing East (the musical repository stood between) ; 
anyone was welcome to come and sit in them and those who 
did not care to stay and hear the discourse could go away 
without disturbing others. The choral parts were famed 
for their beauty being always selected with great care. The 
forms were of the plainest, simplest; for young children and 
weak adult brains to take hold on, and turning them which- 
ever way they looked always to face the Sun for strengthen- 
ing the Secret Life. It was there, in the hall, and in the 
'living room' where the actual mental food was prepared. 
I saw again an old man standing. He was handsomely 
tall, erect ! and his age long over sixty ; though his head was 
turning white rapidly; the eyes held constant flames of 
ardent zeal in his Master's work. Children and animals 
found in him a constant friend. One episode come up 
quickly ; I will give it to you now. 

There had been a national upheaval. He would not 
take any side. Always ready to aid the sick or wounded, 
give shelter to the starving poor of either side, he openly 
condemned, or cheered, either side that came within his 
sight of minds injustice or rights. 

Men of note often gathered at his homely board; if un- 
advisedly argument arose and he saw that ill humour must 
follow he would courteously rise and say to them, "Gentle- 
men, I regret it, but these fierce words cannot be allowed in 
my house." Then he would hold open the door and bow 
both sides out. They all honoured him for it and con- 
stantly sought his impartial aid. He was poor as this world 
reckons. 

This special day I called to memory was one full of 
deepest love and sadness, for he soon after 'passed on.' 

A group of men stood round him. Horrid, some re- 
pulsively so, criminals of the lowest brutal type, natives of 
many different countries, but all claiming his protection 



nights' reveries 31 

then and each found their own name. Some one said, 
'Mon Roi,' another called him 'Major Domo,' another 
'Signoro.' Most of them spoke of him always as the 
Hidalgo, but one who had crouched in a corner put out his 
unwashed hand, touched him and said, 'Mon Frere!' 

The old man's eyes lighted with gladness as he grasped 
the claw-like fingers with his clean, firm, wide hands. 
"Manuel," he at once replied, "of all these," pointing to 
them with the other hand, "you alone have given me my 
title. My Brother, what can / do to help you now?'' 

Suddenly, before Manuel could reply, an inner door burst 
open, a sergeant of the town-guard came in followed by his 
men. He saluted and addressed the old man (who had 
put up his hand to stay their rush), "Si, si Signoro," the 
sergeant answered, again saluting added, "Hidalgo" we 
all call you, "but why do you of noble birth touch such as 
these?" and he brutally pushed some with his boot. 
"Surely, in time they will defile your very boards." 

A little way off from this scene in the hall stood a very 
handsome young man stroking his well-kept moustache. 
Years after he became a famous just judge; at this time he 
was the officer commanding this rough guard's company. 
His history was such that no honest man did he understand 
would allow his child or wife or sister to touch his hand. 

The old man looked at him; turning again he asked the 
sergeant, "Is not he your captain in his way worse than 
these; he has had long years of training, yet, I have him in 
the Master's house too." 

"Si Signore, 'Padrone,' " the man answered and im- 
patiently shrugging his shoulders added, "but what is that 
to me, we, half waving a hand to his men, are blind to 
his deeds; we leave him and them to you and his mind 
'Padrone' ;" and he quickly added "we have been here too 
long already. To disobey his orders even in here means 
perhaps death to me." 

The sergeant half turned as he again hurriedly added, 
"What is the use of it all. Padrone! you have tried over and 



32 nights' reveries 

over again and failed to keep them straight. Every time I 
seek I find ring leaders at your feet in this house who think 
we dare not take them! It is always the way. Why give 
your days to those of us who are not better than dogs?" 

The old man has listened with white drawn face and lips. 
There was keen pain at his heart (we knew) and it was 
with strained nerves we awaited his answer from our place 
of concealment near a window. 

Drawing himself up to his full height he spoke in tones 
clear, though slow from suppressed heartache. "Silvester," 
he said, "You are right. I deserve this, it is my punishment 
to hear, and to bear, from your lips and hands (this man he 
rescued when a lad). I alone am to blame for failure, 
I was too sure of the way hoping to lead." He then ex- 
tended his hands over the culprit's and in a clear voice 
added, "Dominus vobiscum Homo sum," and signed the 
cross. 

The words and action acted as a clarion call. Every 
grovelling man rose and stood erect by the soldiers. As 
Silvester gave the sign to march, quickly eyeing his com- 
mander, one by one, indifferent to the soldiers guarding, 
hustling them on, the culprits seized the old man's hand and 
pressed it to their foreheads. Manuel was last, and as he 
neared the door to the porch, he called back in a shrill voice 
and with perfect pronunciation in words of the older lan- 
guage, "Sublimess es homo!" adding as they reached the 
steps, "Nil humanum alco alienum esset," which was mum- 
blingly echoed by the others in feebler tones as they filed out 
before Silvester and his men who pushed them on. 

The sergeant and his men saluted steadily as they fol- 
lowed. It was not to the future Judge, the Commander; 
but to the old man whose head was bent on his hands that 
gripped the rail. 

That ugly brown and white house passed to other hands 
of a new order. Most of those stewards prefer Judges alone 
to claim the privileged kindred of that Brotherhood. I 
grew bitter. 



nights' reveries 33 

My arm was touched. I turned to see a youthful woman 
at my side. She had followed me, apparently the whole 
way, and shared my thoughts. As our eyes met she smiled. 
Pointing to the so-called 'God's House of Prayer' she said, 
"Of all, you have not yet chosen. Only a memory supplied 
your mental view of what the Master's stewards should be. 
Com.e, we will go on!" 

Feeling most irresponsible, I followed, leaving all to the 
'Youthful Guide.' 

At the end of 'Dolores' street we turned on to a broad, 
clean road. A few paces ahead in the middle of it stood 
two large white pillars with a narrow opening between them. 

My 'Guide' drew her arm away and glided through, then 
turned and beckoned me to follow. I did, but it was not 
quite as easy for me to glide through. It was the only way 
to go for on either sides flowed silent rivers and no con- 
veyances for us. 

The 'Guide' then took my hand and led the way up a 
few broad marble steps. As we mounted I counted them. 
I was weary and said "I am now on six, you are always one 
above, yours is seven." At this she disappeared, I won- 
dered why, instantly she reappeared but did not touch me 
again. She signed to me to look, I did and saw a grand 
forest. Such trees! beyond description. Through the 
branches of the tallest strongest and most beautiful I saw a 
steeple and knew at once it was a Church. The branches, 
there were many, bent very low, but not as such do in a 
storm. // rvas a sloTv rhythmetical movement and Ion?. 
Then I sav/ a clock which rested on a Human frame. It 
completely covered the parts of a man where the chief organs 
of true life should be. The Roman numerals were formed 
by brilliants which blazed as sunlight's rays; and a crimson 
gem rested in the centre. Human hands pointed out the 
hours but that hour, I could not tell. For, as the clock 
made the usual whirring sound before striking, I was amazed 
to hear a voice above me say "it is the hour before they 
rest." 



34 nights' reveries 

How can I describe this Human clock voice. It was as 
if the vocal chords were of purest but frailest silver that was 
lifted and then crashed upon perfect but hollow crystal and 
was slowly swept over by receding sea-waves, taking a deep 
breath for strength, which was emitted oh, so slowly, until 
it was quite stilled by a sad sigh-like sound. As it ceased 
I heard a carriage roll up and stop beside the pillars. 

I saw and knew all the people who got out, so I drew 
within the shadow of the nearest pillar, / was not dressed 
as the}). 

My 'Guide' came over me and said, "You must not hide, 
your lamp is aHght in your right hand. Show them the 
wa^ that y^ou were guided to come through and found the 
one true Church. 

I woke — it was only a dream. 

Friends will find the Dreams and Visions, call them what 
they like, have not been given to me for self, or mine alone 
as guidance; but to aid many who came into my life, and 
theirs after as well. To show that it is not only to the 
apparently Best Workers in this Planet Earth that God 
sends his agents, nor solely to those who attend constantly 
to this world's Churches. 

They are to show that the true Church of God **Cod*s 
House** is in ourselves: that many of those whose shadows 
never darken Earth's House of Prayer may be the truest 
worshippers of God, through Jesus "Christ" who has been 
in and on Earth. 

'The Temple' being built is within themselves — a heart 
full of wordless pra^ersj 'the Organ' sending forth its sweet- 
est chants and symphonies, the sea, children's happily trained 
voices, and the bird's sweet songs; 'the Preacher,' Earth's 
grand, glorious forms of Nature, wherever one turns and 
'the Collection' asked for and must be given — what we share 
quietly with God*s anointed Poor. 



NIGHTS* REVERIES 35 



'Oh, let the sympathy of kindly deeds and words 
Sound for the poor, the friendless, homeless, and the weak; 
And He will Bless You. He who struck those chords 
rvill strike others 
When in turn you seek." 



36 nights' reveries 



"For subtle influence that made me strong . . . 
Dear Lord I thank thee." 

THE ROSES. 

My work was in a 'Cottage Home' as daily special nurse. 
This evening I came home so weary that I did not even 
light my lam.p, but throwing my hat upon a table sat down 
by the open window, deep in thought. It was a calm, sweet 
summer evening. I had handed over my duties for the 
morrow would be my wedding day. How strange! This 
made me seek the picture of the man I would so soon call 
husband. It stood beside my unlighted reading lamp. I 
was startled into ejaculating fear, "What does this mean!" 
My eyes fell on a group of men at the door of my sitting 
room. I watched and waited to see what they would do, 
and wondered who they were and what they wanted? I 
could not see them distinctly through the dim-lighted room. 
One drew away from the others and as he came more into 
sight the others slowly disappeared. The moon was bright 
enough to light my room, but this man was partly in shadow, 
at the inner part of the door. He saw me and came up the 
room and stood almost at my chair. I asked, "Are you a 
Friend?" he bent his head. "But you are a stranger to me." 
He shook his head. "Well, Friend, unknown to me, will 
you do me a favour?" He came nearer and spoke, "Ask 



nights' reveries 37 

it," he said. I pointed to a bottle full of oil; "take it," I 
said, "and kindly fill and light my lamp that we can see 
each other. I ask this being over tired to move and that 
alone. He took the bottle, moved half way across and 
came back swiftly. "Now, what is wrong?" I asked, "the 
lamp is here at my hand." "I know," he answered, "it is 
full, lighted and burning, cannot you see?'* I was an- 
noyed. He has come here with intention to insult me, so 
I sat up erect! "Who are you?" I rudely asked, then 
turned and saw the lamp, he was right. He only smiled, 
"Never mind that now; though pou should k^orv me," he 
added. "In some way I have roused you and now hurt 
your pride; is it not so?" he added. This was quite true, 
so I asked again, "Have you a message, gift, or do you 
require something from my hands?" 

In answer he held up one of his hands, that held a lovely 
full-blown crimson rose. 

"Is this for me?" I asked, strangely surprised. "You 
take or leave," he answered. I was bewildered. I can- 
not wear this glorious thing upon this old soiled gown I now 
have on, and what will happen should I refuse his gift? He 
read my thoughts at once and answered, "that does not 
matter. It is not yourself which wills to take or leave 
the wish is yours. The mind is you." I took the rose in- 
differently and placed it on my knee. "Ah, why this?" 
I exclaimed ; for each petal moved as if by some near unseen 
finger, and slowly one by one, and then in showers; the rose 
leaves fell upon my feet that rested on a foot-stool and a 
great sadness filled my heart. 

"See, see!" I said, "you knew it would not last. Such 
beauty could never rest where all is sad, dreary and worn 
by this earth's moil!" His tones came soft and low. 
"You took the rose (it was your will) ; I did not give it to 
you, remember this." Drawing the other hand from his 
breast, he added, "Had you had this to wear, ah! child, 
(it might have been) your heart had surely failed you." I 
saw he held a rosebud, deep red — as human blood — its rich- 



38 nights' reveries 

ness fixed my gaze. I longed to gather this rosebud from 
his hand and hold it as mine own, though 'twere but for a 
moment. It was half human for it had living, bloodshot 
eyes and they stared at me from every petal. The leaves 
on the stalk were made of greensome jewels that held my 
eyes and seemed to plead in a malicious, dominant way that 
I would give the rosebud instant freedom from his hand 
(behind the holder's back a demon urged me). Half up 
I rose and made to snatch the jeweled rosebud from the 
hand that held it back; but, as I merely touched the thing 
I became powerless as the weakest mortal, after suffering 
greatest pain. 

The Holder of this curious rosebud bent and touched my 
shoulder. I shrank from the hand in terror as he said, 
"Poor child beguiled," and then, "Have patience, and onl^ 
trust me, you shall have a rose, these were never meant for 
you. That one is near that was intended as a wedding 
gift," he sadly smiled into my eyes and my pain disappeared. 
He spoke again, "Child of Great Impulse! Show me your 
hand." I opened my left hand, the one that was the 
nearest to him, it held a pearl. He touched my head. I 
raised my eyes and saw his gentle smile. "Tell me," he 
asked, "where is your garden and have you a rose tree 
there?" "Not in my garden," I repHed, but added, "Just 
on the hedges, and nothing one-half as beautiful as those 
you held." He left me, as it seemed, for an age, but he 
came again; his arms were laden with snowy blossoms. 
"Where did you find these lovely flowers," I asked, "not 
in my little garden?" "Yes, just on the inner hedges of 
your ground," he answered, and coming a little nearer, held 
out his arms. "Choose now," he said. I chose the one 
that had the sweetest perfume, but was small as if plucked 
before its time, or the last blossom from a failing tree. 

He sighed deeply and as I raised my eyes the room was 
filled with softest rays of light, not from the moon alone. 
It was as if rainbow sun rays searching through clouds 
blended with moon, a soft tinted yet warm searching light. 



NIGHTS REVERIES 



39 



I seemed to read that in his eyes was gladness at my 
choice, for he threw all the others up, into the light above 
my head and they disappeared. He seemed to wait, so 
I placed the white rose on my breast above my heart, bend- 
ing to see that I would keep it there securely. I saw a 
queer, queer sight. "See, see, mp Friend T I called. 

He came closer and bent to see. So closely did he come 
to me that I felt his breath, and heard him say, "Ah, now. 
all's well, I am content. It is the face of an old world 
child." Love's innocence. Then I awoke. 



THE GARDEN. • 

"I had a dream through all my nights of sorrow 
That I might find perchance in happier hours 
One little corner in the World's Great Garden — Home of 
the birds and flowers. 

I had a dream, the velvet of the roses cradled my head 

The birds their vespers sang. 
I found "The Garden" ... In its flowers lay hidden . . . 
Only a dream, that died." 



40 nights' reveries 



THE WOMAN'S PRAYER 

OR 

THE ANGEL OF PAIN 

* 'There is an angel who unseen is always with us. 
We in vain must ever seek to solve, I ween, 
The mystery of all human pain." 

Some years ago I had a friend, a woman, with an only 
child. The babe grew to a handsome, winsome lad. He 
gained all hearts. He was his mother's pride. 

Yet with all this she trembled day and night fearing that 
he would carry on a curse she thought rested on her house 
that she had no power to lay. 

One day she fell asleep and dreamed that this, her earth- 
bound child met another, his own sister 'gone on,' and as 
they struggled for 'right of way', she having grown the 
stronger, v/on. She tore the red flesh from his limbs until 
he screamed aloud, gren} white to death, through pain. 

His mother ran to separate them; pushing the girl away 
she clasped her son closely to her heart, turning her back 
upon the girl. 

As these two, mother and son, moved off, the girl who 
stood with downcast eyes cried out as if in greatest mortal 
pain, "Oh! Mother, you are my own dear Mother too! I 
could not hurt, he is my brother." 



nights' reveries 41 

My friend awoke, she said her '"heart felt cold as death.'* 
We soothed and assured her it was only a dream (to calm 
her dreadful fears). 

Years passed away. Mother and son, he was much 
grown, v/ere inseparable, though sometimes poverty made 
Life cruelly hard to bear; but hardest of all unlooked for 
separation came. She, mother-like, had hoped to keep him 
by her side; in her great weakness she cried out, "Must this 
be, he too will go, I'll be alone." 

She dreamed yet another dream. "He rose up fully 
grown, ever-loving and kind to her, yet he must go along a 
road stretching far out of sight by a great seashore. 

She stood at her garden gate watching him, as steadily 
and erect he walked, whilst she was bent in grief. As he 
Reared the bend in his road he turned and looked to where 
she was standing, shading her eyes. 

He raised his cap above his head, pointed it to the sky. 
waved it long and looking at her waved it again. Hopeless 
and aimless now her life appeared though she too waved 
long and steadily to her son as she strangled her sobs. 

At the place where he had waved and pointed his cap 
there rose a brilliant star. She saw it but her heart rebelled 
and she moaned aloud. "Oh! it is noi^ fair, hon> can mp 
heart be brave in this terrible loneliness." 

She woke. He was at her side. He knew that she had 
had a dream and he had news to tell, but not to be parted 
yet. Years draw on to close the pages of that woman's 
life and she sees now there need not have been all that use- 
less pain had her heart only known stronger Faith to read 
her dreams aright. 

:{. H^ H^ ff- 

The babe had grown to a healthy child and had entered 
man's estate. Nothing of that dread 'thing' had appeared 
to crush his soul. The curse was laid but only by an unseen 
powerful hand. 



42 nights' reveries 

His Mother recognized this and thus in thoughts she 
kneeled beside an olden grave and said, "Our Father God, 
Lord of all, Heaven in Earth, our Love! I thank Thee; 
for him, he who still lives 'on the other side' whose earthly 
parts lay here. And for 'myself this all too blurred a 
soul, once perfect (though only a faint reflection) from 
Thine, that thou God gavest me. And for Thy watchful 
Love o'er this one, living still in Earth, on Earth's Planet, 
parts of 'us,' his and mine. 

I know Thy tender care rests over all those that are parts 
of us all, through him, our child. In perfect Faith, sweet 
Hope of Love to thine own will I leave them, knowing now 
perfectly; that the old promise holds good. All will be 
well with those who simply trust in Thee." 



'For the plan would be imperfect 
Unless it held some sphere 

That paid for all toil and talent 
And Love that seems wasted here. 



NIGHTS REVERIES 



43 



THE DOG AND BIRD. 

Ann Williams, Grace Conyers and I were talking ovei 
Jane Murray's coming marriage. We laughed and said the 
whole thing was absurd, painfully so, as we loved her. The 
world, we knew, would make very unkind remarks (we 
were no better, for it took little effort from us she trusted to 
draw her out) and not spare most scathing sentiments, i c, 
an old maid's eagerness to marry anyone. 

We also got on a more serious topic, put our thoughts in 
words, 'That women took marriage far too lightly, hardly 
considering before taking such bonds, never fully realizing 
that marriage must always symbolize true unity, two souls* 
complete union, a comradeship eternal, to make us one whole 
beautiful being, not only in life here, but ever hereafter 'on 
the other side.' God-in-man, man-of-God, by God made 
perfect-loving souls of Love. The woman should be highest 
(as she was made by strength from man's rib) at his side an 
equal, but to give him the warmth of sunshine from her 
heart filled with purest aspirations only for building his ulti- 
mate nobler Hfe." 

That night I dreamed a curious dream which I now give 
you. I was at a 'Gathering.' It appeared to be the an- 
nouncement of someone's coming marriage. The woman 
from what I heard was very much the man's senior. His 



44 nights' reveries 

mother was much perturbed ; her women friends did not seem 
to give her much comfort. He, the son, sat apart looking 
sullenly hard. 

As I entered the room he saw m.e and his expression 
changed marvellously. He came forward and caught both 
my hands saying, "/ am so glad to see you." I was sur- 
prised for I was a stranger to all gathered there, though I 
had seen his mother's face before. The young man went 
on to say, "You will help me, will you not to show them 
what I feel!" 

A few of his men friends seemed sympathetic; but the 
greater number looked dubious and horrid sneers seemed 
hovering at their lips as to his sanity in addressing me, a 
perfect stranger, on his innermost thoughts. 

Jane Murray was the happy possessor of more than a 
comfortable yearly income. The man seemed to be about 
thirty, she was much passed forty. 

Every eye was turned upon us as we took our seats. I 
was eager to learn what he had to tell me and my interest 
in him grew as I read that there was earnestness in his eyes, 
though at first his sullenness had hidden it. 

I was surprised to see his mother grow fearfully agitated 
as her son drew out a folded sheet of thick brown paper 
from the table drawer — what could it mean ! He tore three 
bits and put them into an earthenware dish on the ground 
at our feet. The room was uniloored, the earth seemed 
baked hard. Suddenly my mental vision cleared. I saw 
what he intended doing to prove his reason for marrying 
one so apparently unfitted to be his companion for life. 

I drew my chair in closer to the table and we touched 
hands. I was eager now to help him, saw his face grow 
pale as the sleep, death's twin brother, as the scraps of paper 
nearly united it fluttered together, rose (as it were, with 
great effort), tried to crawl out of the dish on to the floor, 
but could not, it was too weak. The faint form, that of a 
dog, was perfect. I saw that at once. He desired that it 
should be a 'life' sample, that they round him might under- 



nights' reveries 45 

stand his motives. The dog was striped as a Bengal tiger, 
'savage faith,' in himself, giving her truest love. 

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I grasped 
his hand; instantly the little dog sprang out onto the ground, 
perfectly formed in every limb, he, the man, sank down 
quickly. I whistled it to me and held it up facing all! I 
loosened his hand and ran out to the back garden behind 
their house and making a deep hole I placed the dog there. 
It was groyning very weak as it left my arm but made a 
struggle to follow me. "No, no, naughty dog! Go to 
restT' I said and it sank completely to earth. 

I returned quickly and found great confusion. A surgeon 
was amongst them I heard, but that before I got back the 
future bridegroom had begun to show faint signs of return- 
ing consciousness. As I entered the room he opened his 
eyes. His mother's expression had rapidly changed as I 
entered without the dog. Her whole soul seemed going out 
to him, her only son, not heeding any of the remarks made 
to her by her so-called friends. 

As soon as I saw that he had fully regained his strength 
I left them, unseen by him and joined Ann and Grace in 
another room of the same house. 

They seemed startled and unstrung, but before I could 
ask the reason, I sav/ a large bird rise slowly a short way 
above an old out-house and as slowly sink back again. I 
felt a little faint. "Why! it is a canary magnified to the 
size of an eagle," I said, and added, "did you see that?'* 
"Yes, yes, twice before you came in. It is that, it is that 
they simultaneously exclaimed. "We were nervous, it 
seemed so big and queer and we could not understand; we 
admired it but could not imagine from where it has come," 
said Grace. 

I looked keenly over the balcony and saw that the place 
in which I had put the little 'Faith Dog' back to earth was 
now a patch of glorious small sunflowers. 

The bird had risen from the dog's grave, sinking again 
that became, Howers, Love's sunny emblems. 



46 nights' reveries 

Translate this any way you like my patient readers. I 
cannot do else but say, "It was a lesson directly to me of 
what combined True Faith in Love and the True Beauty of 
Souls may accomplish, even on this matter, of Fact seeking 
Reasons on Earth. 

¥ « « 4^ 

Elizabeth Browning says (I have echoed her) : 

"For when a Soul, by choice, and conscience doth put 
out her full force on another Soul, the Conscience and the 
Concentration both make mere Life — Love." 



nights' reveries 47 



THE STAR. 

It was Sunday evening. I had waited until the bells 
ceased to open a new book, a gift. It was one of which I 
had often heard and longed to read; so settled down to a 
mental feast. 'What all the World's a-seeking' (one of 
Trine's soul-awakening works) seemed just the thing for 
that evening. 

Happiness, in unselfish Love, was breathed everywhere. 
The calmness of sea and landscape with the bells echoing 
round added gladness to the air. 

I had hardly turned a leaf of my book when it slipped 
away from my hands. 

A star rose suddenly in the South, that was queer, but 
queerer still, it shot across higher up and rested due East. 

Queerest of all the star burst open! and then there ap- 
peared an amazing combined apparition of Bird, Beasts and 
a Human Form. The head and neck of the beast which 
appeared first was a dog's, but the shoulders, back and legs 
were of an ass. This I was sure of as the black stripe down 
the back of the ass appeared and its hind legs hung down 
in space behind the ruptured star. 

On the neck of the dog, under its long ear, rested a snow 
white dove whilst over the head floated the form of a very 
young woman. 



48 nights' reveries 

Her face could not be clearly seen only the eyes shone 
out clear and tender and her hair flowed round in space. 

As she floated above the spear points of the star that 
divided her from the apparition of the combined creatures 
it seemed but an instant, but she rested there and seemed to 
have her full freedom to come, go and stay at will. 

As I gazed at this symbol in awed admiration a voice 
came down behind me and said, as it were, in proclama- 
tion, **That is y^our Star!*' The hour was barely 8 p. M. 
as I rose and picked up my book. 

I translate this dream as being sent as this lesson: rise! 
above all Human passions and thereby become 'rulers' in- 
stead of 'slaves.' The dog-ass creature representing patient 
endurance and faith through trials, coupled with unselfish 
love (imagined by the dove). The Human form represent- 
ing a soul that has conquered. 

Let us all try. 

Good Night! 



NOV 7 1313 



